12th September, 2018 Wednesday
Dreams were again so veiled last night so I have nada to report.
Tea has been Earl Grey again with Youngest, local honey and that cream.
The morning opened cloaked in grey with clouds marching down the Gorge. Sheet rain slants across my window. Pack’s call to pee, bathrobed and slippered we trailed the stair. Deerhounds first, then Zoi and Wizard followed by me with underarmed Duckle. Chilled rooms. Ahhh. My summer robe allows my skin to feel cold. Fall. Ahhh
Youngest is alight today. Flying down the Gorge and Coast to school and a man she loves. Her visit here has gathered us in ways we have not done for quite a while. This Summer’s tidal rhythms consumed us in oh so many ways. Fall’s song is humming slowly now sirening the shedding of the earth. As chill descends and daylight quicks to dusk, its sorting time, all the things we grew this cycle. And grow we did, yes, grow we did. None of us fit what we were before the Gorge.
I am bone tired through today. Yes, I am fairly wrung. The web of us twangs all of us as each of us does move.
Last night we did the pizza thing and wow, it was a zoo. My little kitchen hosts a storm that tornadoes through it strong. Five pies, concocted and compiled, the pots pop bubble, the pans sing sizzle, the doughs are finger twirled, the Farmers slide inside the door, and whoosh, the oven door receives the first of five piled high with its idea, the next one is a fixing. The first comes out, we’re all about and handed off a slice. The second ovens in as the third’s composing. On and on it goes. If you have to pee, you better time it right cuz if you go you might miss that next chance for a slice. And then thank the Gods, they clean it up, that small but mighty kitchen.
I really want to change the color, the walls are chartreuse green, oh dear. Who the hell had that bright idea given the counters are all black and grey.
My husband drives. He likes to drive and when we have an airport run he is really happy for it. So when Youngest comes, he goes forth to fetch her from her flight. Its all their own, that time. And when she goes, he takes her back. Those rides enclose her visit. They left an hour ago. He just left her for her flight and leaving her, he texted, “safely headed to her gate, your love shows, she’s a wonderful human being, you deserve much credit.”
Now I cry.
Being Mom. Its tough. Especially when you get it Wrong. That feeling, it fucking sucks, but spurs the Right to burst. I love them both, they are so different but, Jesus, they are jewels. A ruby and a sapphire. I look at them astounded. The way the language comes to them might message them another way, a way I don’t intend. How do I dial it back the way they need to hear my love if how I speak my true heart comes as spears to theirs. Some days I get it Wrong. Some days I get it right. I hate the Wrong but learned that it shows the Right.
I am weird in more ways than one. That standard one that means just weird, is where I like to hide. But Weird I am, yes that Big Weird, the Old kind Weird, the one that knows the things that “aren’t” but Are. Its why sometimes I start to squirm when other’s are just fine. My sister calls it Spidey Sense, its all about the twanging web we’re in.
Today the Sapphire and the Ruby made me breakfast with eggs from our wandering hens. Yes, one of the Flock of Five lays eggs as big as blimps. We cracked the first and it produced three yokes, I kid you not. The next one sported only two and so did the third. So for three eggs, we had seven yokes floating in the bowl. Throw all those left over pizza fixings in and Voila, a pizza scramble.
Tea With Me 